


The Mooonlit Chalice

by KatieBirdie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Anyways, Friendship, Gen, Guess whose posting her first work??, Magic, Medieval Fantasy, Mythology - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves, i honestly don’t know what tags to put here, me! - Freeform, the answer is me, those’ll come later, walking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieBirdie/pseuds/KatieBirdie
Summary: When Nemora decided to venture out of the city she grew up in, it was simply to see the world. But the moment she put that plan into action, her life seems to turn into a series of meeting new, bizzare people and narrowly avoiding death in turns. Soon, by way of a 50 foot future-seeing snake, she and her (slightly unwilling) traveling companion are set on course to look for an ancient artifact, believed to be lost to time, the Moonlit Chalice





	The Mooonlit Chalice

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I know ao3’s mostly where people put their fanfic, but I don’t really write it so... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ . Anyways, this is an original novel I’m working on (which you probably already knew...) that I decided to put here for now. Enjoy!

 

Nemora hummed idly, carving out the rough shape of a wolf from a piece of wood in her hands. Occasionally, she glanced up around the cobbled street, though she didn’t really expected anyone to come over to look at her wares, as they were thing like rune-lined cloaks and enchanted toys. Usually it was only travelers who wanted to replace a worn article of clothing for something sturdier, or wanted a little trinket to take with them for their children who stopped by her humble set-up. However, the sun had already started setting by this point, which meant that almost every visitor were returning to their temporary homes in one of the many Inns or bars, or making their ways to other, more dubious establishments instead of shopping around.

Still, Nemora liked lingering in the streets as long as she could. Aside from watching the setting sun paint the roads and buildings a vivid red, Nemora simply enjoyed observing all the people walking by. Even as the twilight hours reigned, the amount of people wandering around was impressive. There were humans of every shade, of course, from a pale white like her to deeps browns and everything in between; orcs with their pale green skin and heavy furs towering over everyone else as they sat upon direwolf steeds; caravans of elves, sharp eyed and dripping with gold jewelry chattered amongst each other; and a menagerie of other, equally different peoples were making their ways to wherever they planned to be that night.

That there would be so many people around came as no surprise to Nemora. Avernan was the capital of Almyria, with the crown jewel of the country- the Royal castle- nestled in the center. Two towering walls made up the city’s main defenses, but this was no deterrent to the fascinated travelers, who gladly came from all over to either find a place to rest that didn’t hold the likely threat of being robbed while traveling elsewhere, or to peruse the many shops and services that crowded around the streets.

Seeing that the sun had finally dipped down behind the horizon, Nemora stood up, stretching with a yawn, and began to put away her unsold items in her bag- charmed to hold much more than it naturally would, of course. First went the clothing: dresses, tunics, cloaks and the like; then all the little wooden toys and knickknacks; and finally the thick rug everything else had been laying on, in its own special side pocket, as not to break anything too delicate. Just as she had hefted the bag onto her shoulder, she heard a voice calling out to her.

“There you are, Morrie! I was worried I wouldn’t get here in time!”

The owner of the voice was a dark-skinned girl with black hair braided and tied up into two buns, who couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. The only thing that gave any indication that she wasn’t human were her bright orange eyes. She waved cheerfully at Nemora, the other hand balled up in her dress as she jogged forward.

“Ah, Corona, you got here just in time to walk back with me.” Nemora said, then added, “You shouldn’t be grabbing your dress like that, you know. I doubt Madam Cornelia will appreciate having one of her workers walking around with crumpled clothing.”

Corona stuck her tongue out, but obligingly slowed down and let go of her dress, falling into step with Nemora, who had begun walking herself. “Doesn’t Madame Cornelia usually let you off earlier than this?” She continued, curious.

Wrinkling her nose, Corona responded, “Madame had us count all the spools of thread after we finished work today,” she suddenly leaned to the side, attempting to drape herself dramatically on Nemora’s shoulder, “it was so boring!”

Nemora snorted and shook Corona off. “I don’t doubt it. What's the use in even having you do that?”

“To torture us, of course.” Corona said, matter-of-fact.

“Ah, of course, how silly of me not to consider it.” Nemora replied, then adding, “Get ready to recount your sorrows to everyone else, we’re almost home.”

Corona brightened, looking up to the stout, grey-stoned building a block ahead. White paint proudly proclaimed the building to be “Lady Marietta’s Orphanage for Young Women”, though so much of the paint had peeled away that you would have to squint to understand it. Corona broke off from Nemora and bounded forwards, calling out, “We’re back!” as she did. The door swung open, and a green face popped out of the threshold, grinning around sharp teeth. “There you are, Corona!” cried Eleanor, “We were just about to set up a search party for you!”

“What am I then, pig’s feet?” asked Nemora, following after Corona, who had made her way to the door.

“Oh, we love you too, Morrie! I didn’t mean to make it sound like we don’t, we just thought you could handle yourself without us!” She Immediately replied, looking guilty.

“I know, Ellie dear, I was just joking.” Nemora said, patting her arm as she passed through the doorway. 

Eleanor shook her head as though she was trying to get water out of her ears. “Of course you were. I suppose I just got flustered.” She shut the door and strode forward, saying, “Nevermind that! You two are in luck, I saved some food for you. We had charmerchande tonight.”

Corona and Nemora exchanged looks, grinning. Eleanor was a fantastic cook, and that greatness only doubled when she got her hands on something as nice as lamb. The three of them crossed into the foyer, which was filled with chairs and small tables scattered around haphazardly, along with whatever things the girls used to amuse themselves. Nemora dropped her bag near the door to the stairs, then eyed the loom, and was relieved to find no signs of someone having messed with it.

Before she could go and check, however, Eleanor grabbed her arm and hauled her towards the direction of the kitchen. “Eating first, work later!” she cheerfully declared.

Nemora scowled, and tried unsuccessfully to shake Elenor off, “I would’ve come if you asked, there’s no need to manhandle me.” she complained.

Corona, who had been watching the whole scene with amusement, chimed in with “That’s a boldfaced lie, Nemora.” Making Eleanor laugh.

Giving up on getting her arm back, Nemora used her free hand to mockingly swat at Corona, who easily dodged the swing. “Shush now, I’m the elder here! You should be giving me respect, not sass!”

Corona looked like she was about to reply, but was cut off by Eleanor letting go of Nemora’s arm and ducking in into the kitchen. The two followed after her, and there was a brief scramble as they tried to maneuver into comfortable positions without knocking into each other in the cramped space. Eleanor twisted around and reached into the open firebox, grabbing the the bowls and completely ignoring the hot embers she was shoving her hands into. Nemora winced, despite knowing full well that due to her orcish heritage, Eleanor could put her hand in a blazing fireplace and be perfectly fine. That didn’t make watching her do such things any less painful.

Eleanor turned back to them. “So, do you want me leave you two to it? I should probably be checking on those two little devils.”

“I think we can manage ourselves fine, Ellie. Go ahead and see what mess needs to be cleaned up.” Nemora said drily, taking the bowls from Eleanor’s hand and passing one to Corona. Eleanor nodded absently, and there was more shuffling before she managed to duck through the doorway once again. Nemora and Corona waited for her to pass before making their way to the dining hall.

The two sat at one of the several long wooden tables and dug into their charmerchande, chatting about nothing in particular in between bites. Corona was in the the middle of a rather spirited recounting of one the pranks she played on her fellow seamstresses-in-training involving a set of mice and excessive amounts of twine when Eleanor burst into the room, dragging a small red-headed girl long with her.

“Nemora, I need you to talk some sense into Lucy! She won’t listen to anything I say!” Eleanor looked exasperated, which was strange to see on her normally smiling face. At her side, Lucy stood stiffly, glaring at the floor. Nemora sighed and set her food to the side, standing up and walking around so that she standing right in front of Lucy.

“Do you want to tell me why Eleanor isn’t happy with you, Lucy?” she said softly. Lucy continued staring at the floor, refusing to say anything.

“What if I swore to you I wouldn’t get mad? Would you tell me then?”

She shook her head.

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re lying.” Lucy whispered. Nemora stiffened, then relaxed with another sigh. It looked like Lucy hadn’t quite accepted that how her parents acted wasn’t how everyone did things. She crouched down so that she was almost level with the smaller girl.

“Look, Lucy. I know it’s hard to believe, but I do mean it when I say that I won’t say anything I don’t intend to do. Just tell me what happened, and then we’ll go from there, alright?”

Lucy glanced up, hesitating for a moment, before clearly steeling herself with a big breath. “I was outside with Lacey, and we were playing, and then this boy came up to us and started talking about how we looked exactly the same, and I got really mad, and I went and punched him and then we got into a fight and I got my new dress all dirty and torn.” she explained, speaking so quickly Nemora could barely understand her.

“A fight? Did you get hurt?” Nemora exclaimed.

“I scraped up my arms, but that’s it.” Lucy looked startled, as though she hadn’t realized that would be a concern. Nemora silently cursed the girl’s parents. She then took her arms- making sure that she did so slowly, no need to spook her- and examined them. They weren’t too bad, mostly a couple superficial cuts and bruises, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be washed and bandaged, and she told Lucy as much.

“But the dress!” Lucy cried, distraught. Nemora glanced down at it consideringly. It was dusty, and she could see several tears, but it could have been far worse had the fight gone on longer.

“I’d have rather had it so that you didn’t get into a fight at all, but I couldn’t care less about a scratched up dress as long as you didn’t get badly hurt.” she said honestly. Nemora then stood up, holding her hand out. “All the same, we should probably get that fixed up.” For a moment, Lucy only stared up at her, clearly bewildered. But eventually she took Nemora’s hand, and allowed herself to be led up stairs. Nemora glanced behind herself. Corona smirked and waved her away dismissively, clearly fine with being left behind for the moment as Eleanor smiled and nodded encouragingly.

She let Lucy up to her room, where she kept her sewing kit, and had her sit on her bed. “So,” she said distractedly, rummaging around her desk draws for her white thread, “What should I be looking to fix? I saw the tears near the bottom, but are there any others?”

Lucy frowned, nose scrunched upin thought. “I don’t think there are any others besides those.” She ventured, looking uncertain. Nemora hummed.

“How about we deal with the ones we know about, then deal with any others later?”

After that, no more words were exchanged as Nemora set to stitching, and Lucy stared out of the window, into the star-speckled sky. Abruptly, Lucy straightened, saying,

“Could you tell me the story of how the stars came to be?”

Nemora looked up from her work, and hummed consideringly. “I suppose I could. Any reason why you want to hear that one specifically?” Lucy shrugged, saying nothing, and Nemora laughed.

“Fair enough, then.” She said, amused, ”Once upon a time, before time even existed, there was a great nothingness. In the nothingness, there were beings, who both were and were not.”

Here, Lucy interrupted Nemora to ask, “What does that mean? How can something be both something and nothing?”

Nemora frowned down at the hole she was stitching closed. “I’m not quite sure. I suppose you could say they were like thoughts, in that they didn’t exist physically, but they still existed.” Lucy cocked her head, considering this, then nodded in acceptance.

“I guess that makes sense.” She conceded.

Relieved that Lucy had accepted her explanation, Nemora continued, “Those beings, who both were and were not, grew tired of the nothingness, and how there was nothing to do, for anything that could be done had not yet been made. These beings all came to a decision: they would simply have to make something out of the nothingness. But what they should make, the beings had no idea, for there was nothing to base an idea off of. For a great time the being pondered on this- at least, they would have, if there had been any time yet. Be there was not, so they spend no time at all thinking on what to make. One of the beings came forward, and claimed that if the beings were going to make something, they should be able to see it. The beings agreed that this was an idea with great merit, and so the being set about making what would be called light. The problem was, the light had nowhere to go in the nothingness, for there was nothing to light. So other being, with the help of several others, set about creating the world.”

“Just like that?” Lucy exclaimed incredulously, interrupting once more.

Nemora laughed. “No, there’s far more to it than that, but it's not important to the story at hand, which I’d like to get back to.” she added, poking Lucy’s leg as she finished sewing one of the tears. Lucy flushed and muttered an apology, and Nemora patted her knee in forgiveness.

“And when the world was made, the being, who was now named Lightmaker, cast light into the world once more. But the a new problem arose: the light was so bright and unrepressed that nothing could be seen anyways. Then came forward another being, who said that they would make the shadows, and so the darkness came to be, and in the darkness the Lightmaker placed the stars, making the sky as we see it at night.”

“What was the name of the one who made the darkness?”

“The Mother of Shadows, I believe, though I suppose it could be different depending on where you come from. Ah, we’re done!” Said Nemora, cutting the last of the thread from the stitches. She stood up, and Lucy looked down at her handiwork, impressed. The thread was almost the same white as the dress, making them difficult to see. Lucy stood up as well, then abruptly leaned forward to grab Nemora’s legs in a hug. Nemora let out a startled sound, and before she could return the gesture, Lucy let go and stepped back, refusing to look at her.

Nemora smiled fondly down at her, but decided not to push, instead simply remarking, “You should probably be heading to bed now. Wouldn’t want you getting you sleep schedule messed up, would we?”

Lucy made a disgruntled noise, but did not protest further when Nemora took her hand, and led her out of the bedroom. On their way, they passed by a pale girl with hair that looked like it had been subjected to a hurricane and dark circles under her eyes.

“Heading to bed, Flavia?” Asked Nemora, though she already knew the answer. Flavia snorted, running a hand threw her hair.

“Nah, I’m going up to the roof to look at the sky. I haven’t had a good night's sleep in years, Morrie, why bother trying?” She sighed.

“At least try and rest if you’re not going to sleep.” Nemora said disapprovingly.

Flavia shrugged, but didn’t argue further, which was the best Nemora was going to get and she knew it. Lucy frowned at Flavia’s retreating back as she made her way to the stairs.

“Why doesn’t Flavia sleep well? Couldn’t she just take a sleeping potion?” She asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Nemora said, looking back to where Flavia had just been. “She’s partially some sort of air spirit, so things like that don’t work on her. It keeps her from being cursed, though, so I suppose that’s an upside.”

“What do you mean, that stuff doesn’t work on her?” Lucy pushed.

“It’s something about how her body rejects any magic that isn’t related to winds, I think,” said Nemora, “Like how most people’s bodies try to get rid of things like poison, though Flavia’s way of going about things is generally more effective, I must admit.”

She stopped suddenly, realizing that they had made it to Lucy and Lacey’s room. “Looks like this is where we part.” She said, jokingly solemn. “I doubt you need me to led you to bed.” Lucy giggled and shook her head. She let go of Nemora’s hand and opened the door, yawning into her hand.

“Goodnight, Morrie!”

“Goodnight to you too, Lucy.” Nemora replied, voice soft. For a few moments she simply looked at the now closed door. That was one of the first times she could recall Lucy using that nickname like the rest of the girls. She shook her head at her own sentimentality and wandered back downstairs.

Both Corona and Eleanor had moved into the foyer while Nemora was with Lucy, Corona having set up her easel and oil paints, and Eleanor had a book in her lap, though it was being ignored in favor of watching Corona work.

“Lucy’s been all sorted out.” She announced, not bothering to stifle her laughter as the two of them both whipped their heads around to where she was standing, looking alarmed.

“For the love of the Worldweaver, Nemora, you can’t sneak upon us like that!” Eleanor exclaimed, only to immediately switch tracks, saying, “Lucy’s alright, isn’t she? I know she’s still hung up on her parents, the poor dear, I was worried she’d be inconsolable.”

“I wasn’t even trying to sneak, you two just don’t pay attention,” she protested, then added, “and Lucy’s fine now that her dress has been fixed up. I sent her off to bed.” She neglected to mention Lucy using her nickname; it felt oddly private to her.

The two girls looked relieved at Lucy’s return to good cheer, Corona remarking “A good thing too, going to bed in a bad mood never leads to anything you’d like.” Eleanor hummed in vague agreement, but could not say anything further before she was cut off by a yawn.

“I suppose I'll take that for the sign it is and head to bed myself.” She said, placing the discarded book onto a table next to the chair, and stood up. “Don’t stay up too late, now.” She strode to the stairs, and Nemora stepped to the side to let her pass, and took her previous place in the chair, picking up her bag from where it sat by the stairs as she went.

“So what are you doing tonight, Corona?” Nemora asked, settling into the cushions. Corona held out a finger in a silent request for patience, tongue sticking out as she worked on the painting. Eventually she put the brush down and shifted the easel so Nemora could see.

“Another night scene? It’s lovely, of course, but this has to be the tenth painting you’ve made where it’s nighttime.” And it was lovely, even only half finished, with a black sky dotted with stars mirrored by a lake, which was surrounded by various trees.

Corona scoffed and made a weak attempt at kicking Nemora’s leg. “Oh, hush. I just like painting landscapes at night, all right?”

A peaceful silence settled over the both of them as Corona went back to her painting and Nemora dug up a half embroidered dress she had been working on earlier and continued from where she had left off. Nemora could not be sure exactly how long they worked on their separate tasks, mostly ignoring each other. It couldn’t have been more than an hour before Corona set down her brush and stretched out with a tired groan.

“This thing’s about as finished as it’s ever going to be.” She told Nemora, eyeing the canvas critically. “I’d best stop now before I start obsessing over the little bits.”

Nemora glanced up from her dress, saying, “Heading to bed, then?”

Humming in agreement, Corona strode to the doorway that led to the stairs, before pausing and turning back to Nemora, leaning on the doorframe as she did.

“Your sixteenth birthday is tomorrow.” She observed, face oddly blank.

Nemora resisted the urge to sigh. “So it is.” She replied, refusing to look up from her embroidery.

“Oh, I’m going about all the wrong way, aren’t I?” She said, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “What I’m trying to ask is— are you still planning to go off on your own like you said?”

“Yes, I still am. You know I’ve always wanted to go around traveling, and this is the perfect time to start.” Nemora set her needle and dress down, twisting her body around to face Corona. “I won’t be vanishing forever, you know. I'll come back eventually, and before that I’ll send letters every week, filled with so much meaningless minutia it’ll bore you all to tears so much that you’ll be dreading the days they appear.” She warned.

To Nemora’s relief, Corona laughed. “Morrie, trust me when I say that anything you write will be read, even if its just about you wandering around a forest. There’s a reason why Lucy and Lacey won’t stand for anyone but you to tell them fairy tales.”

“Really now, is that why they like to hang onto me like leeches? Here I was thinking they just enjoyed being my own personal nuisances.” Nemora said dryly.

“Oh, that too. The stories are just a nice bonus.” Corona replied, smirking.

For a moment, the two simply looked at each other, then Corona suddenly strode towards Nemora and flung her arms around her, hugging tightly, burying her face into Nemora’s neck.  
”I’m gonna miss you.” She muttered.

“I’m not gone yet, you know.” Nemora muttered back, wrapping her arms around Corona in return anyways.

Eventually, Corona let go and straightened up, grinning sheepishly at Nemora. “I think I’ll be heading to bed now.”

Nemora smiled warmly at her, saying “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

She watched as Corona walked up the stairs, folded up her half embroidered dress and tucked it away into her messenger bag, and headed up to bed herself.

 


End file.
